Steel and Emerald
by Sekai Kakumei
Summary: Who is Lyra Malfoy, why is Harry Potter marrying her, and how will everything change? Is a happy ending in the cards? Marriage Law Challenge fic. AU. Not quite HPDM slash. Please RR, as this is my first fic and I'd like to know what you, yes YOU!, think!
1. Unexpected Love

It was a brilliantly sunny day. Birds were soaring through the flawless blue sky in joyous flight, tall grass was waving gently in a warm breeze that was like a lover's breath, and a very confused Harry Potter was getting married to a girl he'd never met and hadn't known existed. 

The war had ended badly, but everyone was just grateful it had ended at all. Voldemort had been defeated, in the end, but the body count was horrific. The Ministry of Magic, in response, had enacted a somewhat controversial measure calling upon the survivors to "do their part in ensuring a strong, promising future for Wizards everywhere". In short, the Wizarding World needed babies and everyone between 16 and 30 with a drop of Wizard blood in their veins was being conscripted into an arranged marriage.

Harry's was on very short notice. He'd only received his owl that morning, telling him to come to the Ministry's concealed wedding tent somewhere in the wilds of Scotland. They hadn't even told him who he was supposed to be spending the rest of his life with.

He was waiting in front of a very harried-looking Kingsley Shacklebolt, who'd evidently been marrying couples all morning long. Harry had passed a few of them on the way in; some hadn't looked particularly happy with their matches. Harry supposed that saving the Wizarding World from Voldemort's scourge made him deserving of a happier ending. After all, without him there might not be a Wizarding World left to repopulate.

With little fanfare, someone walked through the tent's opening. The girl, swathed in a silk dress, walked somewhat hesitantly towards him with her veiled eyes pointed squarely at the ground. She was tall and slender beneath the billowing fabric, but there was something oddly familiar about the way she walked. The girl stood beside Harry, but pulled away every time she brushed against him as if he were liable to bite her.

Kingsley began to rattle off their vows in a very rehearsed, matter-of-fact way. "Do you, Harry James Potter, take Lyra Spica Malfoy to-"

Harry mumbled his way through the rest of the ceremony rather absently. Lyra Malfoy? Was she a sister of Draco's? Draco and his family had been slightly warmer to Harry after the war, but he wondered how Draco would feel about becoming his brother-in-law. He'd never mentioned a sister, and Harry had certainly never seen her at Hogwarts. Maybe she was sent to Durmstrang. Maybe she was just much older than him. Maybe she was a Squib. At least she'd be well off. Lyra's hands were warm and soft, with slender, agile fingers. He wondered what the rest of her looked like.

Harry, lost in thought, barely noticed when it came time to kiss the bride. He tried to look eager, but of course not too eager. She turned to him, pulled back the veil with a sigh, and...

_What in Merlin's name is going on here!?__  
_

"Hang on, there's been a mistake-" Harry began.

"I wish it were, Potter. I'm as pleased about this as you are," said Draco, scowling.

Kingsley looked impatient. "Please, kiss your bride so that all the other couples can be wed."

Harry and Draco stared at each other for a silent moment.

"Yes, Potter," said Draco, finally. "Kiss me. Let's get this nonsense over with."

"I'm not marrying Draco Malfoy!" protested Harry.

Draco gave him a rather curt kiss, as though he were afraid that Harry might bite him. "Looks like you just did," he hissed.

Almost lazily, Shacklebolt waved his wand over the pair and declared them bonded for life. Silver sparks shot out and drifted down onto the newlyweds like brilliantly shining snow. Harry blinked away the afterimages. The bonding spell felt like a thick iron shackle binding him to a cell in the world's deepest, darkest dungeon.

* * *

_Congratulations, newlyweds! You've just joined the Wizard Repopulation Effort! You are now bound by the terms and conditions of this document, on pain of a sentence in Azkaban..._

Harry skimmed over the rest of the letter while trying to avoid his new mother-in-law's withering gaze.

How romantic they made it all sound. Couples received sizeable bonuses for every child they produced after the first two, and there was quite literally no way out of the contract. Aurors were standing by for deployment in the event that anyone tried to escape their new duty.

"Thank Merlin your father didn't live to see this, Lyra," said Narcissa, glaring at Harry. The three of them sat in Malfoy Manor's opulent living room, drinking tea prepared by one of their House Elves. Harry was afraid to try his for fear it might be poisoned. It certainly smelled fine. "He always wanted to see you married off to that nice Parkinson girl," Narcissa continued. "He would've given anything to have a nice strong scion carry on the Malfoy name. I suppose we can hyphenate the children's names, but I doubt that 'Malfoy-Potter' will look anywhere near sophisticated enough."

Harry took a hesitant swallow from his cup of tea and was mildly surprised when he did not keel over in agony shortly thereafter. As a bonus, the tea was excellent.

"I was born a girl, but Father wanted a son," explained Dra-no, Lyra. It was going to be odd thinking of her that way. "So Mother put a charm on me to make me into a boy. She dispelled it this morning, when we got the Ministry's owl. It didn't wear off all at once because it's been on me for so long," she said, rubbing her expanding breasts.

Lyra looked more feminine with every passing second. She was distressingly pretty in female form, as well. As Harry sipped his tea, some deeply buried part of him thought that this arrangement might not be so bad after all. Several other parts, however, were doing their best to keep it sealed and out of sight. They didn't seem to be succeeding.

"It will have worn off by the time you two consummate your new relationship," said Narcissa. "The one saving grace here is that you weren't paired with a Mudblood. Fortunately, I still have some contacts in the Ministry. I'm sure that we can find you a decent job that won't tax your miscegenetic brain too terribly, so you won't be a total drain on our resources. You two can have the spare wing, since you've nowhere good enough for my Lyra to haughtily storm out of, much less live." She sipped her tea. "Darling, won't you take your...breeding partner up to your new bedroom?"

Lyra seized his wrist and dragged him to the wing Narcissa had indicated. Her grip was like iron.

* * *

Malfoy Manor made the Black family's house in Grimmauld Place look like Hagrid's cabin. Harry found himself gazing in awe at the sheer beauty of the place he would now be living. 

Lyra smirked. "Never lived in a proper house before, have you, Potter?"

_No pressure, then,_ thought Harry. "That's not my fault. My parents-"

"Yes, I know," said Lyra. "Everyone knows. And after the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters were destroyed and those Muggles you live with got blown up, no one's left to take you in. You should feel grateful, Potter. This is the best thing that could have happened to you. You'll be living with a decent family for once."

"Hey, do you think you could call me by my first name?" Harry asked. "Since you're my wife now and all?"

Lyra stopped and glared at him. Her voice was so cold enough to make polar bears shiver and flee in search of warmer climes. "No, Potter. I don't think I will."

"Then lead on, Mrs. Potter."

Lyra's fingernails drove themselves into his arm like the nails in a coffin.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: That was kind of a slow start, but it will pick up in later chapters. I promise. Please read and review if you'd like to see more!

Also, I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.


	2. Warmth

_Author's Notes_: Be warned, there's naughtiness in this chapter. I still don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry Potter's new wife, Lyra Malfoy, lay on her side, curled up on soft black satin sheets. Her moonbeam-pale skin, soft as newborn kittens, glimmered in the candlelight. Waist-length platinum blonde ringlets framed feminine curves that had appeared in all the right places. Lyra's bosom heaved gently beneath a sheer, translucent black negligee woven from only the finest strands of silk. A scent like the mingled perfume of roses, lilacs, and jasmine filled the air. As Harry pulled back the bed's velvet curtains, his awaiting bride looked up and set her sea-grey eyes upon Harry's emerald ones.

"Well?" she snapped. "Get on with it."

"Do we really have to do this?" asked Harry. At the moment, consummating his arranged marriage was possibly the last thing he wanted to do. He was so nervous that he felt as if he were filled with a hundred fluttering Golden Snitches, all desperately trying to escape. His knees shook, so he sat on the bed to keep from falling over.

"Yes, Potter. We have to. How else did you think we were going to make those babies for the Minstry? Let's pray I have triplets so that we never have to do this again." Lyra paused. "You do know how to do it, don't you?"

"Well," said Harry, blushing. He'd never had a Sexual Education lesson in his life. Hogwarts hadn't offered one, assuming that their students' parents would teach their children about the act. His aunt and uncle hadn't, either, preferring to think that his school might. All he knew was that it involved a man and a woman and ended with a baby. Occasionally it involved a man and a man, or a woman and a woman, but on those occasions it was much less likely to end with a baby. "Sort of."

"Neither do I," admitted Lyra. "Contrary to popular opinion, I was not as popular with the ladies as my devastatingly handsome appearance and undeniable charisma indicated. Pansy Parkinson's a frigid bitch, anyway. And my mother's 'last minute advice' was useless. All she said was that I should lie back and think of Avalon. What that has to do with babies, I've no idea. All I know is that you take your thing," she said, pointing, "and stick it into mine. And do be gentle. I'm delicate."

Harry thought back to the videos that Dudley thought no one knew were on his computer. The basic technique seemed to be quite simple: find the hole, insert, repeat as necessary. Though he'd often wondered why the act seemed to require so many elaborate apparatuses. And that one video with the octopus was downright bewildering.

"Er," said Harry, remembering the charm. "D'you have a-"

"Yes. It was one of the first things to change back," said Lyra. "And I must say, it's much more aesthetically pleasing than the male type and less susceptible to injury." She turned onto her back and spread her legs, showing him.

Harry tried not to look, saw it by accident, and then tried to pry his eyes away. There was something oddly compelling about the organ between Lyra's legs. He shrugged off the thin black robe he was wearing, then realized how awkward it was to be naked in front of someone else. Especially when that someone used to be Draco Malfoy and was now so suddenly attractive. Harry's Basilisk awoke, standing up as if it were before a snake charmer, and was seized by a sudden burning need to infiltrate Lyra's Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh, so it works after all," Lyra yawned, eyeing the Erection that Lived.. "Mine was much larger, you know. And not so lumpy. I do miss the old boy. Maybe Mother will teach me how to turn myself back once-OI!" Her musing was cut off by the intrusion of Harry's tongue into her mouth. "What do you think you're-"

"Do you want to get this over with or don't you?"

Lyra relented. She sighed and spread her legs, allowing Harry access to the wonders within. Harry lay beside her, amd she ran a finger along the washboard lines of his Quidditch-toned muscles.

For a moment, it was utterly and completely perfect. Wonderful. The animosity and tension between them dropped away like shadows before the sun. Harry lay on top of his wife, and she was wonderfully soft and warm. He ran his hands gently along her beautiful body, evoking quiet moans of pleasure. The girl kissed him, passionately, and their tongues fought like warring serpents. Their limbs entwined so tightly that he thought and hoped they might never be apart again. It felt as though she were made for him. Lyra wrapped her long slender legs around his waist. Harry guided his wand into her entrance, prepared to cast his spell into her womb, and thrust into her wet velvety softness.

Then Lyra cried out in pain.

She was bleeding onto the satin sheets. Harry's dick was stained red.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what I've done wrong!" Harry managed, as Lyra pummeled him with a pillow.

"You clumsy oaf!" Lyra screamed, knocking Harry off the bed. "You've wounded me! I can't believe this! A million filthy Muggles spawn hordes of disgusting offspring every year, and you can't even manage to have sex properly?!"

With surprising strength for such a slender girl, Lyra picked him up and tossed him out of the room. He fell heavily onto the floor outside.

"Don't you ever touch me again, Harry Potter!" She punctuated the exclamation with a slam of the door.

Harry sighed and stood there for an awkward moment. His rapidly deflating penis dripped crimson droplets onto the floor. He took off his glasses, curled up outside his blushing bride's door, and tried to sleep.

The carpet was soft, and thicker than some mattresses he'd slept on. He snuggled into its shaggy depths and prayed to die quietly in his sleep.

_Thank Heaven for small mercies..._

* * *

The next morning, Narcissa was not pleased with either of them.

"Leave it to the Ministry," she said through gritted teeth, "to thrust my lovely daughter into the hands of the only teenage boy in Britain too ignorant to know what a hymen is."

Lyra suddenly became very interested in her breakfast.

When Harry finished eating, he excused himself as soon as humanly possible and fled.

* * *

Much later that afternoon, Lyra found him hiding in one of the Manor's nicer gardens. Harry'd been the Dursleys' unpaid gardener for most of his life and it was a relief to be able to just sit on a hillock and enjoy the peace and quiet. It was almost as nice as being away from Narcissa's baleful glares and Lyra's pained glances.

The girl padded up to her husband. "Harry?"

He answered quietly. "Has your mother sent you to execute me?"

An elf, carrying a laden tray, followed quietly behind her. He set down two goblets and a jug of pumpkin juice before silently vanishing, leaving the pair alone with the leaves and wind.

"No, I found you on my own," she said, filling a goblet and handing it to him. "Harry, I forgive you for what happened. You didn't know what you were doing and neither did I, and...well, I just don't want to go to Azkaban because you failed at coitus." She blushed faintly.

"Well," said Harry, "I'm willing to try again, if you are. To keep us out of that place, of course."

"Of course," said Lyra, sitting beside him.

Hand in hand, they sipped pumpkin juice and watched the sun set over Malfoy Manor.

* * *

The next morning, Harry awoke with a smile on his face and his arm draped around Lyra's warm body.

* * *

_Author's Notes_: So what'd you think? Please let me know! This isn't the ending, by the way. There'll be at least one more chapter. I promise! 


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